Unexpected Aid
by A.Treatyjh
Summary: This story takes place just before the episode Control Freaks. Danny is hurt from a ghost fight, and Sam can't fix him without some unexpected aid. This aid comes from a character who doesn't play a huge role in the show, but is amazing, regardless of her screentime.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: As this is my first Fanfiction story, I want to immediately thank anyone who takes the time to read this. I do hope to be a writer some day, so any criticism or advice would be extremely helpful! I was inspired to write this from Tay1019411. What a great writer! There is not a single story of Tay's that isn't amazing! So anyway, all rights to Danny Phantom go to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. Thank you!**

The stereotypical horror movie scream flooded throughout my indoor movie theater, thanks to our surround sound system. I smiled, despite the gruesomely bloody scene displayed on the TV screen and pop another piece of popcorn in my mouth. I always watched some kind of horror, slash-killing, murder movies when my parents are on another one of their "vacations" so they can't yell at me to turn down the volume. Or even worse, lecture me on how horror movies, "soil my impressionable mind, yada yada yada." So a Saturday night with my parents on an exclusive trip to Hawaii spelled out Murder Movie Night with my friends...except my friends weren't there. Not yet, anyway. Tucker was grounded because he played "Doomed" instead of studying for a test, which he ended up flunking. Danny said he would come, but he had yet to fulfill that promise. I checked the clock and frowned. 10:05. He must be done with schoolwork, or given up on it. Of course, he still had to do his nightly rounds to check the city for any wandering ghosts. That doesn't usually take him too long. Until he showed up, I decided to share my movie night with coca-cola, popcorn, and my Grandma. Yes, my Grandma. I glanced over at the older woman, her gray hair pulled tight in a ponytail. Wrinkles formed around her eyes and cheeks as she smiled at the cheesy horror movie. A crackly laugh burst through her lips as the movie followed another cliche- young girl running from an axe murder, tripping over herself, and screaming in horror rather than getting up and escaping. Cue blood spatter..there it is. I rolled my eyes, though still holding a smile, and pluck a few pieces of popcorn out of the bowl.

"This movie is cheesier than Tucker's nachos," I tell my Grandma, grinning as she laughed.

"Where is that boy anyway? Didn't you say you invited your friends?" She asked.

"Tucker can't make it, but Danny might." I glanced up at the clock again, a slight nervousness growing as the hands ticked on and on. 10:20. _Shouldn't he be here by now?_

I shrug, burying down my worry. Maybe he got hung up on a math question. Maybe the box ghost made an appearance. Maybe nothing's wrong and he's just late. Not likely, but one can hope. I seem to be doing that a lot lately-worrying, questioning, and hoping. I never used to be like this, never worried myself silly. Since Danny's accident, though, I've been steadily growing more anxious. Whenever he was late before, I could assume a menial distraction, but not anymore. Now, Danny's tardiness is almost always attributed to a troublesome ghost. A worm of fear wiggled past my defenses, prying at the thought of him lying somewhere, bloody and hurt...

I shook my head and squeezed the bottle of Coca-Cola, accidentally making some of the soda spill out onto my shoes. That earned me a confused, slightly concerned look from my Grandma.

"Whoops," I said, chuckling and blushing at my stupidity. "Those horror movie pop-outs, ya know?" I hastily wiped the soda from my shoes.

"Are you suddenly scared of coffee, Sam?" My Grandma chided jokingly. I checked the movie screen to see that it was at the one scene that had no pop-outs, just the characters drinking steaming coffee and discussing the recent murders.

I laughed nervously, "I'm skittish tonight, that's all."

"Are you worried about your friend Danny?" My Grandma inquired, though her tone made it more of a statement than a question.

I laughed again, mentally wincing at how nervous it sounded.

"Danny? Why would I be worried about Danny? I'm sure he's fine." I said rapidly. It would be almost comical if I wasn't the one doing it.

"You've had this anxious frown on your face since I asked about your friends." My Grandma continued; her attention was now fully on me, the cheesy film forgotten.

"W-why'd you assume it was Danny? Tucker is the one who's grounded." I stated

My Grandma shrugged, a knowing smile gracing her elderly face. "You were blushing a little." She said, the sweet, grandmotherly smile replaced with a smirk.

"I wasn't!" I gasped. This time, I could feel the blush emerge on to my cheeks, then spread throughout my whole face.

"Mhm," Grandma muttered unconvincingly. "Not blushing at all," she turned back to the movie, the knowing smirk still plastered on her cheeks. I settled back down, trying to no avail to melt myself into the chair. God knows my red cheeks were warm enough to melt. As much as I hate to admit it, I probably was blushing before. That was another change I've had since the accident. Sure, I've always seen Danny as something, well, _different_ from a friend, but never so strongly before. I closed my eyes, remembering the portal, the light, his scream. After he stumbled out of the green haze, falling into my arms, something changed in me. Guilt, most of all, but other things too. You know the saying, "You don't appreciate what you have until it's gone?" Well, I guess it was something like that. I'd always really liked Danny, as my lifelong friend, but that day introduced me to a whole new level of emotions. The thought of losing him, _really_ losing him, struck me with such a panic that I felt my insides churning, my mind simply melting. Losing him would be like losing part of myself. I could just picture him, his clothes torn and matted with blood, his sapphire eyes filled with tears, calling for my help.

"Sam," the tears spilled out of his eyes, "Sam?" His voice louder this time. "SAMANTHA MANSON!" My eyes shot open and I jolted forward, stopping only inches before smacking into my Grandma's looming face.

"Sam, what's going on?" She grabbed my face, holding it close.

"N-nothing," I attempted to sound defiant, but my voice stuttered and cracked, coming out as a weak whisper.

"Is there something I should know about?" She asked. Her voice was firm, but concerned. My violent eyes peered into hers, a similar shade of my own. For once, I couldn't think of an excuse for my panic. My Grandma was also hard to lie to, mostly because I've never really had to. She understood more things than my parents could even attempt to grasp.

"I've just been getting anxious a lot lately. I'm sorry, Grandma," I said. My eyes fell from hers in favor of staring at the carpet.

"Is this about that boy?" She asked, all trace of joviality gone, replaced by genuine concern. My eyes shot back to hers. _"How does she do that?"_

Honestly, sometimes I feel like she can see right through me. It must be a grandma thing.

"No."

"Don't lie to me, dear." She chided softly.

" _Dang. Caught me again."_

"It's just..." I hesitated, not wanting to give too much away, but she wouldn't be satisfied until I gave her something. "He's been going through a lot lately. I'm worried about him. He puts so much on himself, things a fourteen-year-old boy shouldn't have to worry about." I spoke slowly, carefully. I don't talk about Danny to anyone because sometimes I can get carried away, more focused on my thoughts than the actual listener. Then occasionally, some thoughts leak out that shouldn't, whether it be his secrets or mine.

"He's a good boy. I'm sure he doesn't take on things he can't handle." My Grandma said softly. She ruffled my hair comfortingly and searched for my eyes. I refused to meet hers, though, fearing that she would peer through them and read my thoughts.

"You're right." I finally answered, forcing a smile to break through my grimace. She _wasn't_ right, but I wouldn't tell her that. No, that would only lead to more questions that I couldn't answer. But Danny _did_ take on more than he can handle, whether he's willing to admit it or not.

"You're right," I said again, more convincing this time. "Thanks Grandma." I stood and smiled at her. "I'm upset for nothing," _Lie,_ "I just need to stop worrying," _True, but not gonna happen._

"That's my girl," Grandma nodded. She grinned, but there was still a slither of doubt hidden in her lavender eyes.

I yawned, feigning exhaustion. "He probably messaged me on the computer, saying he couldn't make it."

"Probably." Grandma nodded.

"I'm gonna get ready for bed. Thanks for watching the movie with me, Grandma. I had a lot of fun."

"Of course," She chuckled, the sweet smile reappearing. "Anything for you, Sam Dear."

I smiled back and headed to my room. I could feel keen purple eyes on my back, but I didn't turn around. Instead, I navigated through my house-I absolutely _hate_ how big it is-and finally reached my bedroom. I immediately went to my computer and checked for messages, mentally pleading that Danny's name would pop up with a message like, "Sorry, Sam, I can't make it tonight. Gotta do my homework. Love you."

Okay, maybe the last part was unrealistic, but whatever. A girl can dream, can't she? Not like I dream that or anything.

To my dismay, the message box came up empty. No sign from Danny at all. My eyes glanced at the time on the bottom of my computer screen. Almost 11:30.

He forgot. That's all. He forgot. No need to panic.

Despite my mental chiding, I _was_ panicking. I found myself pacing the room, going back to the window every few seconds in hope of a glimpse of white hair, or a blur of black and silver. Still, nothing. After several excruciating minutes of hair pulling and pacing, I throw myself on my bed and sink into the dark purple covers.

"You're being ridiculous Sam," I told myself. I drug my hands over my face, pulling my heavy eyelids down. "Go to sleep."

Unfortunately, it would take a miracle to get me to sleep. My mind wouldn't stop rifling through horrendous theories of why Danny never showed, each one worse than the last. That isn't so different for me. Most of my nights are spent thinking about him, but my thoughts aren't usually as tortured.

I sighed irritably, rolling onto my stomach, then back around again to stare at the ceiling.

I heard a tap on my window. Immediately, I launched myself from the mattress, running to my bedroom window. And, of course, nothing was there

I fell back onto my bed, mentally berating myself for God knows how long. What seems like forever later, the tap came back.

"No." I said firmly, squeezing my eyes shut. "It's just insanity tapping on my skull. I'm not going crazy. Nope."

Tap again, slightly louder.

"Not happening."

Another tap, this time it repeated three times, significantly louder. My eyes slid open, ever so slowly. I turned to look out the window, and for the second time, I launched myself out of bed and ran towards the window, ran towards him.

Danny smiled weakly, phasing through the window before I could reach him. He collapsed on the floor, trembling as he clutched his stomach.

"Danny!" I cried, panic and relief flooding through me at the same time.

He lifted his head from the floor, his luminous green eyes meeting mine.

"I made it," he murmured as I knelt beside him, cradling his head in my lap.

"Shh," I whispered, gently pulling his arm away from the wound in his stomach. His black suit was glowing with green ectoplasm, or in other words, ghost blood. Every second it spread, rippling over his chest and legs.

"Danny," I said again, my eyes starting to cloud. I shook myself into shape.

 _"This is no time to cry, Sam. He needs you to be strong,"_ My thoughts reminded me. I retrieved the medical kit from under my bed and popped it open. I shuffled through the supplies, looking for disinfectant and bandages. Every few seconds my eyes would dart back to him, just to make sure that he was still there, still breathing.

Finding my tools, I turned to him and peeled off his jumpsuit, which was sticky with bright green ectoplasm. Some parts I had to cut off with scissors because the ectoplasm made it stick too closely to his skin. He was muttering softly, his words inaudible to me. I quickly wiped the green substance from his wound and applied pressure to it. I fought down my tears when I heard him groan.

"You're okay, Danny. I'm here. I'm..." My voice failed, and tears spilled out in the hundreds. The drops fell onto his chest, clearing away some of the ectoplasm, but leaving faint green trails down his sides.

"Sam.." he muttered quietly. So quietly that it barely reached my ears. It did, however, and his voice brought a whole new wave of tears to my eyes.

"Don't..." he started, grimacing as he pronounced the word. I tried to quiet him, but he didn't listen. Didn't care that he was hurting himself even more. "Don't cry." he whispered.

I was trying not to. I was trying _really_ hard, but the tears kept flowing. Every whimper he made, every wince just reminded me that his pain was my fault.

 _"Go check it out, Danny."_ I mocked myself. _"Yeah, go_ inside _the unstable ghost portal. That's a good idea. Not like it will ruin your life or anything."_

How could I be so stupid? The one person I love more than anything, and I nearly get him killed. I put his life in danger Every. Single. Day.

The ectoplasm drenched the towel and stained my pale hands a sickly green. I pulled off my bed sheet and used it as a towel. I heard a muffled knock.

"Don't try to move, Danny." I scolded him softly, thinking the sound was him trying to push himself up. He muttered unintelligibly and his eyes closed. I heard a squeak, almost like a door opening, but I ignored it. I was too focused on Danny's pained expression to notice anything else. I sopped up some more ectoplasm on the bed sheet and inspected his wound. A little gasp reached my ears. It didn't sound anything like Danny, and my heart broke, thinking that the pain was making his gasps a couple octaves higher than usual. I hastily run my hand across my eyes, sweeping the tears away. His agonized expression is gone, replaced with a look of peace. I've seen that face enough times to know that he was losing consciousness. White rings formed around his middle, splitting in two and then traveling up his battered body. The tattered black suit was replaced by jeans and a T-shirt. His hair turned from startling white to coal black. His eyes were closed, but I knew they would have changed from emeralds to sapphires.

I stared at the towel in my hand, saturated in his blood. No longer ectoplasm, but blood. The blood was worse; it made the situation even more traumatic. Ectoplasm was horrible enough, but seeing his blood seeping into the carpet was like being punched with reality. The crimson reminded me that he was still very human, and very hurt.

I hear the same gasp as before and realized that it did not come from Danny. A second later, something shattered behind me. I jumped, startled by the sudden smash, and whirled around to see my Grandma, a look of dumbfounded shock on her face. The two teacups she had been holding were now on the floor, shattered into a hundred pieces.

"S-sam?" She gasped, her wide eyes darting from me to Danny.

"Grandma," I choked, the tears still flowing. "Help."

I half expected her to run or have a heart attack, but she did neither. Once again, I underestimated just how amazing my Grandmother was. She slid down from her automatic scooter and knelt next to me. Her knees cracked in protest, but she paid them no attention.

"He needs stitches, dear." she answered grimly. The shocked expression was no longer apparent. Now, my grandma wore a look of grim determination.

"Hurry up honey, we don't have all night." Her voice shook me out of my state of shock. I nodded and pulled the stitching kit out of the medical supplies and placed it in her outstretched hand.

"Grandma, do you need me to.." I asked, but my voice faltered when I saw her stubbornly shake her head.

"I wasn't always so old, you know." She told me. Her eyes were trained on Danny as she tore open the stitching kit. "Did I ever tell you, I was a nurse during the war?" She asked.

"What?" I frowned, my eyebrows scrunching in confusion. It was an expression I had adopted from Danny.

"Leave the stitches to me, Sammy. If there's one thing an old hag like me is good for, it's watching out for her granddaughter." She settled the thread into the stitching needle. "And her troublesome boyfriends."Despite the situation, I blushed a little.

For the next hour, we sat there. I mopped up Danny's blood while my grandma stitched up the wound with perfect precision. By the time she was done, her hands were shaking, so I bandaged him up. We lifted his unconscious body onto my bed and collapsed on the floor beside it. My grandma and I just stared at each other for a long time, breathing heavily, but having nothing to say. She reached out and gently brushed away the remaining tears that clung to my cheeks. I know she wanted answers, but I couldn't speak. If I did, the tears were pour out again. I leaned into her arms, burying my face into her shoulder.

"No wonder you've been so anxious lately." My grandma whispered. She brushed her fingers through my hair comfortingly. "Little Danny...my my." She chuckled. "He was such a cute little thing when you two were little. I never thought he would grow up to be a superhero." She laughed again and continued to cradle me.

"You-you saw that?" I pulled away so that I could look her in the eyes.

She nodded thoughtfully. "I came to check on you. I thought you might want some tea. It's a real stress reliever, you know."

My lips curled into a faint smile. _"Good old grandma,"_ I thought lovingly.

"Never expected to see _that_ ," She exclaimed.

"You won't tell anyone, right?" I asked. "Please?" I began to panic again and lost control of my mouth. "If anyone found out, Danny would be-"

"I know that, child!" My Grandma sighed irritatedly. "I may be old, but I'm not stupid. Danny, whether he's Fenton, or Phantom, or whatever, he's still my future grandson-in-law-"

"Grandma!" I gasped, a deep crimson blush washing over me.

"What?" she asked, feigning innocence, but her eyes glittered with childlike mischief. I peeked over the bed, silently praying that Danny didn't hear that. Thankfully, he was still asleep. I sighed in relief, seeing that his breathing had slowed down to a regular pace and the bleeding had stopped. I settle back down, a sigh escaping my lips. My eyes closed, and I leaned against the bed.

"He'll be okay now." I spoke. The words were more to comfort me than anyone else.

"He better be. That was top-class stitching I did back there." Grandma nodded her head proudly. Well, I couldn't see her do it, considering my eyes were still closed, but I know she did.

"Thanks, Grandma." I said quietly. "He's never been this bad before...I don't know what would have happened if you weren't here." I kept my voice quiet, partly because I didn't want to wake Danny, and partly because I didn't want to cry again. I felt her hand grab mine and stroke it softly. For a long time she remained quiet, but when she did speak, her confident words pried my eyes open.

"He's got a big job on his hands," She said delicately. "He's gonna need help, and that help has gotta be you, Sam."

I nodded mutely.

"You better take care of that boy. Lord knows he's been taking care of us for long enough."

At her words, I felt my heart swell with pride, amongst other things. "Yeah, he has."

Danny stirred and began muttering to himself. I stood up too fast and had to wait for the head rush to go away before hurrying to his side. Grandma rose as well, but slid back into her scooter and headed for the door instead.

Danny's muttering became louder and more distinct.

"You think he'll want some tea?" Grandma called from the doorway.

"Sure. Thanks, Grandma." I answered quietly, my gaze still locked on Danny. His eyes fluttered, and then to my great relief, opened all the way.

"Sam?" He asked. His voice sounded strained and rough. Nothing a cup of my Grandma's tea wouldn't fix.

"Yeah?" I said softly, praying that my voice wouldn't crack.

"Sorry I was late."

I sighed, a mixture of relief and irritation. Of all the things I expected him to say, that was not one of them. He stared back at me with a lazy smile on his lips.

"It's fine, Danny." I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face; his smile was so sweet and contagious, it was hard not to return it.

"And.." he glanced away suddenly, smile disappearing behind a slight frown. "I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble..I don't, I didn't-you-uh," he stuttered, making his cheeks glow in embarrassment.

"You aren't any trouble, Danny." I told him. "Honestly, how can you even think that?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Don't apologize, okay?"

He nodded, the gentle smile returning. "Okay."

" _He's gonna need help, and that help has gotta be you, Sam."_

I sat down next to him on the bed. "I'll always be here, Danny. If you're ever hurt, never hesitate to tap on my window, got it?" He nodded. "Hero or not," he blushed, still not used to the whole 'hero' thing, "I'll always patch you up."

"Thanks, Sam. I really appreciate it. Everything you do for me." He rubbed the back of his neck, shyly smiling at his lap.

"Anytime," was all I answered. My Grandma's words kept ringing in my head: _"You better take care of that boy. Lord knows he's been taking care of us for long enough."_

 _"I will, Grandma."_ I thought, my eyes studying the bandages around Danny's stomach. _"I will."_


	2. Epilogue

**Author's Note: First of all, a big thanks to Lilith Jae for being my first ever Favorite on a story! Also to Lucky-the-Cat and braveheartcrzy, who was my first follower. I really appreciate you guys! So when I was watching _Control Freaks_ , (for the hundredth time) I remember thinking that Grandma Manson was so chill with everything, almost like she knew about Danny. That's what inspired me to add her into the story. This chapter is pretty short because it's just wrapping things up. That's what Epilogues are for, right? So thanks again for reading! Much appreciated!**

 **Epilogue**

I watched the kitchen TV with a blank expression on my face. Inside, I was jumping and shouting for joy, but there was no way I could let my parents see that. So, I sat there calmly, eating my cereal, and watching the news report on "Teen Hero Inviso-Bill" fighting a "Robot-like ghost." Trying not to laugh at the butchered names was a trial all on its own.

"I just don't know about that boy," my Mother murmured as she filed her already-perfect nails."He's a ghost, but-"

"Pamela," My Father interrupted, "Don't tell me you're getting soft on a ghost."

My Mother frowned at his accusation, but didn't deny it.

"Whether he plays hero or not, he's still a ghost. And he's still dangerous." My Father finished his tirade just as Danny hit Skulker with a decisive blow and sucked him into the Fenton Thermos. A few girls from the crowd below squealed, one of them being Casper High's very own princess: Paulina Sanchez. Danny gave a little wave to the crowd before vanishing in thin air.

"Sam," I sighed as my Father's scrutinizing gaze turned to me. "Tell me you won't ever be like one of those brainwashed fangirls?" His voice managing to be pleading and demanding at the same time.

"Whatever, dad." I mumbled, finishing my cereal and washing the bowl in the sink. Behind me, I heard him open his mouth, probably to tell me to watch my attitude, but my good old Grandma came to the rescue.

"Oh, Jeremy, give it a rest!" She cackled, driving her automatic scooter up to the breakfast table. "You're just jealous cause he's cuter than you."

At this, my Father nearly dropped the coffee mug he was holding. I couldn't help but laugh at his dumbfounded face. My Mother, try she might, couldn't stop from giggling and had to leave the kitchen. After his moment of shock, my Dad recovered and began another rant.

"Sometimes I believe I am the only person with any sense around here!" My Father slammed his coffee mug onto the table. His face had turned pink from embarrassment and anger.

"Oh, no," my Grandma leaned out of her scooter to whisper to me, "now look what I've done." She said it with no trace of regret, just mischievous curiosity. I bit my lip to strangle the laugh that was building in my throat.

My Dad clicked off the TV, where the news reporters were still talking about "Inviso-Bill" and grabbed his jacket, swinging it over his shoulder hastily.

"I have a golf tournament and I can't be late because I'm loitering around with children." He glared pointedly at my Grandma. As he briskly crossed the kitchen, reaching for the front door, Grandma called out one last jab: "If you see the GhostBoy, will you get his autograph for me?"

I couldn't control myself that time, and the sounds of my laughter and my Father's angry scoffing echoed around the kitchen. Without another word, he reached for the door knob and swung it open. Instead of leaving, he stood there awkwardly for a few seconds. I tilted my head to peer past my Dad's tall figure.

"Hi, Mr. Manson. Is Sam there?" I rolled my eyes at the irony. Of course it would be Danny.

My Dad merely scoffed and muttered, "Fentons," under his breath before pushing past Danny and stalking to his car.

"Hey, Danny," I called to him, walking towards the door. He stood on the doorstep, hand still posed as if he was about to knock. He lowered it when I waved him in.

"Hey, Sam." He grinned brightly. "Hi, Grandma Manson."

"Danny!" Grandma scootered over to him. I groaned. "You and Sam off to go cause trouble?" She cackled, a devious grin spreading across her face.

"No," Danny replied hesitantly, making my Grandma laugh even harder.

My Dad slammed the car door rather loud, causing the three of us to jump in surprise.

"Jeez," Danny muttered, briefly looking back at the expensive car speeding down the road. "What's his problem?"

"Nothing," I replied quickly. I hoped my Grandma wouldn't give any details, but I should have known better. What's a grandma to do rather than embarrass her granddaughter?

"Oh, I told that old crank that Inviso-Bill was cuter than he was." Her eyes glittered dangerously as Danny's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. "Don't you think, Sam?" She continued, to my horror.

My eyes flitted between Danny and my Grandma. "Uh, I, um, sure." My cheeks turned a few shades darker than Danny's. "I guess." Danny's blush got redder, but he grinned.

 _"I'm never gonna hear the end of this,"_ I sighed inwardly.

"Come on, Danny. We gotta go buy those tickets." I grabbed his wrist and drug him away from my Grandma. Circus Gothica was coming to town, and we had to get the tickets in advance.

"Stay out of trouble, you two!" My Grandma called as I drug Danny out the doorway. Danny turned back to wave at her and to my absolute terror, she winked at him.

Danny turned back with a confused look on his face. "Did your Grandma just _wink_ at me?"

"Eh, no. It was just a twitch." I said. "An old person thing."

"Oh, okay." Danny nodded, the thought immediately forgotten. So gullible.

 _"And he wonders why I call him clueless,"_ I thought, a daring smile on my lips.


End file.
